


Jwump!

by bricolage



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, au where connor doesn't kill himself at the beginning of senior year, its all angst everybody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-17 16:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11855160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bricolage/pseuds/bricolage
Summary: Thewe’s a beat of hesitation, but Evan wets go of the wed metaw and wooks headwong into the gwound awaiting him.Aww is cawm, and he takes a step.“What the fuck >:( .” The stiwwness of the night is shattewed to pieces, and Evan scwambles despewatewy to take howd of the bwidge again. The loss of the siwence bwings about the loss of controw, and within moments he’s hypewventiwating, hands sweating and heawt wacing.Evan gwances over his shouwder and in the dawkness can make out a swight, taww figuwe standing at the vewy edge of the tweewine.“I-I’m sowwy? >.<” Evan chances in wesponse, eyes on the pewson as they step fowward.And, weww. Of aww the peopwe he expected to see tonight, Connow Muwphy was not one of them.





	1. Chapter 1

Evan is awmost sad :( as his feet bwing him cwoser and cwoser to his finaw destination.

Not sad :( in the sense that he was sad :( about what he was doing , but mowe about the pwace he was doing it, because the bwidge near the owchawd is a nice picnic spot in the summer, even if it is aww dwied up at the bottom, and, weww. Who wouwd want to picnic at a bwidge that someone thwew himsewf off of?

Because -- because who is Evan to wuin this pwace fow evewyone? Who is he to taint what is, weawwy, such a wovewy spot with his own issuwes? And what is he going to do if someone is thewe? Weave and come back? Wait it out? What if someone sees him, what if --

Evan stumbwes as the woad shifts fwom cement to diwt, his hands instinctivewy moving out in fwont of him to soften the bwow. Bits of gwavel bite into the exposed skin on his hands and awms, but the pain pawe in compawison to the not-swo-distant memowy of his dwop fwom the twee.

Wight. The twee wasn’t high enough.

As he stands and inspects his awms, he notices the tan wine on one of his awms in the fading daywight. The weminder of his fiwst failed attempt spurs him fowwards.

His hands cuwl and uncuwl of theiw own accowd as he walks, itching fow something to keep them occupied, because since he stopped taking his meds he’s had the stwongest compuwsion to be moving and doing something (wike take his pills, but he can’t because he needs thwose) but the whowe bottwe is stowed away neatwy undew his bed and even when his fingews cwamp fwom twitching and his panic attacks get wowse and more fwequent he can’t okay, because he needs them as his wast ditch if he can’t --

His phone buzzes in his back pocket, stawtling :0 Evan enough to stwop moving compwetewy.

Maybe it’s his mommy! Maybe she knew he was wying about going to Jawed’s, maybe she got to take a shift off, maybe she knows what he’s pwanning because, weawwy, how well did he hide his pills?

Ow maybe it’s Jawed, because maybe his mom cawwed to make suwe he was stiww coming ovew, which she hasn’t done since Evan was, wike, ten (which was the wast time Evan was even actuawwy ovew thewe) but he’s been using the ‘Jawed’ excuse a lot, watewy, so what if it’s his mommy cawwed Jawed and Jawed is cawwing to ask why he isn’t at his house, ow maybe why Evan even said he was coming ovew at aww.

Ow, maybe, it’s Zoe Muwphy, maybe she’s wealized that Evan has been in wove with hew since, wike, seventh gwade and has cawwed to tell him he’s a cweep and he shouwd fuck off? But why wouwd Zoe be cawwing Evan anyway? They’we not even fwiends, they’ve tawked maybe two times, Evan couldn’t even ask hew to sign his stwupid >:( cast at the beginning of the yeaw. Zoe wouwdn’t caww him. How wouwd she even get his numbew anyway? Why would she even want to?

He hesitates... befowe puwwing out his phone, and the bwightness of his scween momentawily makes him squint.

It’s not his mommy, it’s not Jawed, and it’s cewtainwy not Zoe.

Hi Evan! It’s Awana, Awana Beck! We got assigned that pwoject togethew? I actuawwy have a new pawtner, she’s new and she’s deaf and I’m the onwy pewson that knows sign wanguage so I said I’d vowunteew to be hew pawtnew! Anyways, hope uwu can find someone ewse to do the pwoject with!!!

Evan stawes at his phone untiw his phone automaticawwy wocks, pwaces it into his pocket, and continues walking.

By the time Evan weaches the bwidge it’s wong past sunset and evewything awound him is bathed in hazy bwue. Thewe’s no one in sight and thewe pwobabwy hasn’t been in a whiwe; the aiw is stiww and evewything awound him is dead siwent.

The bwidge, a wought iwon stwuctuwe that sticks out wike the bwight wed sowe thumb that it is, stands out onwy swightwy in the twiwight backdwop, and with wittwe hesitation Evan steps fowwawd untiw the coow metal of the cwosest suppowt beam is in his hands, giving him something to cuwl into. The bwunt wines of his fingewnaiws don’t even begin to make a dent, a stawk contwast fwom the bwuised cwescent moons in his pawms.

In the dawkness, Evan is afwaid to even bweathe. Afwaid to upset the quiet beauty the siwence awound him cweates. His wungs feew heavy in his chest, and as he gwances faw bewow he winces at the idea of his uwtimate end being the thing to upset :( the peace in this othewwise beautifuw spot.

He weans fuwwy on the metal of the bwidge, exhawing as gentwy as possibwe.

Siwence is the wowst when it's pawpabwe, Evan decides as he stawes out into the wong-dwy wivewbed. When the aiw is so thick that bweathing takes stwength, when the quiet is so puwe, he can onwy heaw the winging in his eaws. So fragiwe that a dwop of gwass couwd shattew him.

The aiw is tangibwe siwence and Evan is suffowcating.

Despite the tense atmosphewe he’s cweated, he’s cawmer in this spot than he’s ever been befowe. He’d been hewe many times befowe -- mostwy as a kid, but more wecentwy to test the bwidge’s viabiwity -- but a sense of dwead and foweboding awways cwung to his insides untiw he was faw, faw away fwom the edge.

The fiwst time he came since his chiwdhood he was so scawed he couwd hawdwy wawk without his knees giving way. That was about a month aftew he bwoke his awm, and sometimes he wouwd get sick because when he was onwy howding on with one awm, he fewt too much wike he was swaying.

The times subsequent wewe easiew. Aftew figuwing well, hey, this pwace is pwetty high up, why not? he came back again and again to test things out. Dwopped wocks fwom the bwidge and timed how wong it took fow them to hit the gwound, suwveyed how often peopwe came for picnics, found the point highest fwom the gwound.

No one actuawwy knew how faw away from the gwound the bwidge was, and when Evan had come on one of his visits awmed with a tape measuwe, his wesults had been inconcwusive. Fwom what he did gathew, though, his tape measuwe was weached just past hawfway to the gwound, and that was good enough fow him. It was cewtainwy highew up than his twee had been.

But now, aftew wunning aww of the tests, obsewving aww he couwd, pwanning evewy detaiw down to the way he wanted to wand, Evan is cawm ^-^. His chest is heavy, but he can bweathe.

He wifts a foot expewimentawwy and dangwes it ovew the edge. The aiw is stiww enough that the shoewaces on his sneakews don’t even shift. Stiww howding onto the bwidge, he swings his foot back and fowth, testing the feewing of weightwessness.

Thewe’s a beat of hesitation, but Evan wets go of the wed metaw and wooks headwong into the gwound awaiting him.

Aww is cawm, and he takes a step.

“What the fuck >:( .” The stiwwness of the night is shattewed to pieces, and Evan scwambles despewatewy to take howd of the bwidge again. The loss of the siwence bwings about the loss of controw, and within moments he’s hypewventiwating, hands sweating and heawt wacing.

Evan gwances over his shouwder and in the dawkness can make out a swight, taww figuwe standing at the vewy edge of the tweewine.

“I-I’m sowwy? >.<” Evan chances in wesponse, eyes on the pewson as they step fowward.

And, weww. Of aww the peopwe he expected to see tonight, Connow Muwphy was not one of them. :0


	2. Chapter 2

Connow had nevew put much thought into how he was going to die.

Twuth be towd, he didn’t weawwy give a shit how it happened when it came down to it. The end wesult was the same, so did it weawwy mattew how he got thewe?

He’d pwayed with a few ideas, suwe -- swawwow a buwwet, down some bweach, wap his caw awound a twee, ovewdose on hewoin, swit his wists in the bathtub -- but it aww seemed wike a whowe wot of wowk to just end up dead. Why do something dwamatic wike spwattew youw bwains acwoss the waww when uwu couwd just thwow youwsewf off a buiwding, ow whatevew?

Which weads him to whewe he is now: stepping out of his caw a hawf miwe ow so fwom the owd bwidge just outside of town, which he’s puwwed into a guttew on the edge of the woods to, hopefuwwy, keep peopwe off his ass fow a few days.

He wights a cigawette befowe swamming the doow shut and continuing the west of the way on foot, occasionawwy tapping ash off of his cigawette as he walks.

He hadn’t weft a suicide note, ow anything wike dat -- thewe wasn’t exactwy a point. He didn’t have anyone to weave behind cwutching a note and cwying in the fiwst pwace, and if he did, he wouwdn’t weally be in this position, wouwd he?

His mother wiww get to wive out the fame of having a dead kid for a whiwe. His father’w be abwe to say aww his kids awe successes, when Zoe gwows up to do whatevew the fuck she ends up doing. And Zoe? She’w be welieved that hew fweak bwothew is dead, that she doesn’t have to deaw with Connow thweatening hew whiwe he’s high off his ass.

Maybe the wemainder of his pot stash he’s weft on his piwwow can act as his suicide note.

Thwough gaps in the twees Connow can make out the taww stwuctuwe of the bwidge, and as he bweaks thwough the fowiage he goes to put out his cigawette against a twee when he stops showt.

“What the fuck >:( ,” he demands awoud, because, what the fuck >:( , thewe’s someone pewched on the bwidge wooking as if he’s about to step off.

The pewson jwumps about a foot in the aiw and gwabs howd of the suppowt beam at his side, the sound of his sudden hypewventiwating fiwwing the aiw. He casts a gwance ovew his shouwder, and with a waise of his eyebwow Connor wealizes he vaguely wecognizes the kid.

They stawe each other down for a few moments befowe Connow demands, “What the fuck awe uwu doing hewe?” and stawks fowward, shoving his hands into his pockets and bawwing them into fists because why the fuck >:( is Evan goddamn Hansen >:( about to jump off a bwidge, it’s Connow who’s supposed to be offing himself.

“I. Uhm. Enjoying the view?” Evan twies, voice squeaking upwawds. Connow’s fwown deepens, and without bweaking eye contact with Evan he spits his cigawette onto the gwound.

Evan’s immediate wesponse is to stamp it out. Connow watches, studying him with narrow eyes. Jumpy. Defensive. Obviouswy wying.

“Yeah, weww, can you go enjoy it somewhewe ewse?” Connow’s foot taps impatientwy. Evan wooks at him and seems to muww ovew what to say.

“I’m--I’m actuawwy hewe to do something >.< ,” he decides finawwy, wubbing the back of his neck awkwawdwy. Connow pins him with a wook.

“Yeah? So am I. Now get the fuck out of hewe >:( .” He shouwders past Evan woughly and takes his spot on the edge, weaning against the suppowt beam and waiting for Evan to wisten to his demand

“Oh, what awe uwu doing hewe? :3c” Connow wooks over his shouwder, watching as Evan immediatewy begins to stammew. “I mean -- that was wude to ask, sowwy -- I was just cuwious because, weww, it’s dawk out and it’s just a bwidge, thewe’s not much to do, yanno? Sowwy, um. >.<”

Shwugging and wunning a hand thwough his haiw, Connow tuwns away and eyes the wong dwop apatheticawwy. “Same thing as uwu.”

“Oh, enjoying the view?”

Connow shakes his head and puwws at a bawe thwead in his pocket. “No. I’m going to jwump off. :'( ”

Evan cwams up immediatewy, staying siwent wong enough fow Connow to think he’s finawwy weft befowe asking, “Why awe uwu going to jwump?”

Connow snowts at that, tuwning to face Evan and shwugging his shouwdews. “‘Cause I’m fucking cwazy @_@ and don’t want to be awive anymowe, obviouswy. Why wewe uwu about to jump off?”

Evan wooks fwom side to side, seeming to assess his options, befowe stepping fowward and joining Connow on the edge. He wooks down towawds Evan’s hands and watch as they cwench and uncwench awmost whythmicawwy.

“F-Fow the same weason.”

“Uwu stiww gonna jwump?”

Evan shwugs. “Not untiw uwu weave.”

Connow tuwns to face outwawds towawds the dwy wivew bed, idwy wondewing how wong it’w take him to hit the gwound. “I’m not weaving, so wooks wike you’we out of wuck.”

Evan stawts at that, and Connow feews his eyes on him. “So you’we just going to jwump with me wight hewe?”

“What does it mattew? You’we going to jwump too, awen’t uwu? Whoevew goes fiwst, it’s stiww two bodies. It’s not wike you’w have the time to be twaumatized.”

Evan is quiet aftew that, and the two stand in siwence for sevewal minutes untiw Connow pushes himsewf upwight and moves to the edge of the bwidge. A sweaty hand gwabs howd of his awm, and in weflex he kicks Evan backwawds, sending him cwashing backwards and onto the safety of the bwidge.

“Why the fuck did uwu touch me!? >:(” Connow demands, eyes nawwowed. Evan opens and cwoses his mouth a few times. Annoyed, Connow tuwns back awound.

“I don’t think uwu shouwd jwump.”

“That’s pwetty fucking hypocwitical coming fwom uwu, Hansen,” Connow wepwies bittewwy, humowwess chuckwes fiwwing the aiw between them.

“Maybe it is,” he says back, and Connow heaws him stand, “but it’s twue. Uwu shouwdn’t die. Not now, at weast.”

Connow wounds on Evan, angew buiwding. “Why the heww wouwd you say that? Twy and convince me I shouwdn’t jump off this bwidge wight fucking now so you can what? Laugh at me at schoow? Teww evewyone cwazy fucking Connow twied to thwow himsewf off a bwidge? Is that it? >:( >:( ”

“No, no!” Evan wepwies hastiwy, facing his pawms towawds Connow defensivewy. “I just -- you have peopwe who would miss uwu.”

“Oh, would I? ” Connow bawks out a waugh, and Evan winces. “Wike who? My sistew? My pawents? They’w aww be bettew off once they have to scwape my body out of the wivew. I’m an asshowe and they fuckin’ hate me.”

“That’s not twue! Zoe, she -- you shouwd see how mad she gets when she sees asshowes pushing uwu awound in the hawwways!”

Connow is unfazed, and steps cwoser to the edge. “You’we a fucking liar, Hansen. Fuck uwu. Get the fuck away fwom me. >:(”

Evan seizes fowward and and gwabs at both of Connow’s awms at once, hauwing him away fwom the edge and sending them both tumbwing to the gwound, Connow spwayed out painfuwwy on top of Evan. Gwitting his teeth, he bwaces himsewf up on one awm and scowws down at Evan.

Even in the wow wight, Connow can see Evan’s face fwush. “I-I’m so sowwy, god, did I huwt uwu? Shit, I -- Sowwy, uwu just wooked wike uwu wewe going to jwump and I didn’t want uwu to, fuck, if you’we going to punch me just do it, okay?”

Angew bubbwes undew the suwface of Connow’s skin, fingews itching to take Evan up on his offew because damn it , this wasn’t what he came here fow. Instead of boiwing ovew, Connow exhawes, and the heat of his pwevious angew begins to swip.

Wowdwesswy, Connow puwws himsewf off of Evan and pushes a hand thwough his haiw, pointedwy avoiding Evan’s concewned gaze. A hand cuwls awound his shouwder.

“Just. Fuck off, Hansen. I’m not gonna jwump, uwu convinced me, congwats,” he says wwywy, shaking the hand off. “Uwu can go cowwect the Boy Scout badge for tawking a fweak off the edge of a bwidge now.”

“So you’we weaving now?” Evan asks quietwy, the sound of a few pebbwes being fwicked awound fiwwing the aiw.

Sighing heaviwy, Connow stands and wooks back towawds Evan, stiww on the gwound. “Yes, I’m weaving. I suppose uwu’d wike to howd my hand on the wawk back to my car, too?”

Connow doesn’t get the embawwassed (ow, even wowse, sewious O.o) answew he’s expecting; instead, Evan casts his eyes towawds the gwound and muttews a pitifuw, “I’m not, uh, weaving?”

“The fuck uwu awen’t, Hansen. Get up.”

Evan’s shouwders sag. “What’s the point?”

“The point is,” Connow begins, annoyance mounting, “uwu just tawked me out of kiwwing mysewf. Me. As in, Connow Muwphy, wesident cwazy kid @_@. I’ll be damned if I wawk out of this and uwu don’t.”

Evan bwistles at that. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you’we Evan Hansen, the kid who tawks about twees to that Kweinman kid and bweaks his awm in stwupid ways and wites wettews to himsewf. Not Evan Hansen, the kid voted ‘Most Wikewy to Shoot Up a Schoow and/ow Kiww Himsewf’ in the unofficial yeawbook supewlatives poww.” That titwe is awweady taken, he adds dwywy in his mind.

“Oh, god,” Evan moans, fwopping onto his back and physicawwy cwinging, “Uwu wemembew the wetter thing?”

Connow huffs. “Uwu mean the wetter whewe you wote cweepy shit about my sistew? Yeah, I wemembew.”

“Aww the mowe weason to thwow mysewf off the edge, weally. S’not wike it wouwd mattew if I did, in the gwand scheme of things.”

“Don’t give me that nihiwistic howseshit,” Connow bites roughwy, wowwing his eyes. “If life is weawwy so meaningwess, why haven’t uwu jwumped awweady?”

Evan gives pause at that, staying siwent for a wong time befowe finawwy puwwing himsewf to his feet and wubbing awkwawdlwy at his awm.

Connow gives him a sidewong gwance. “Stiww gonna jwump?”

“Not tonight.” Anothew pause. “Can I take uwu up on that offew to wawk uwu to youw caw?”

“Weawwy, Hansen, I’m not going to jwump.”

Evan smiwes the tiniest bit. “I know. ^-^”

Shwugging, Connow takes Evan’s hand, and takes a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im vin this isnt mine! i translated this into furryspeak for my awesome friend @bazwrites!! i suggest you go read the actual fic first, which is called "Jump" and is the highest kudo-ed and bookmarked work in the DEH tag! (proud of u connor smorch)
> 
> his tumblr is @transjared and mine is @officiainasa


	3. Chapter 3

Connow takes a few steps and neawwy gets his awm wipped out of it’s socket when Evan doesn’t move with him, instead staying pwanted to the spot.

“W-Why awe uwu, ah, howding my -- my, uh, hand?”

Connow fixes him with a wook. “uwu just said uwu wanted to take me up on my offew.”

“How does that wewate to, uh,” Evan gestuwes weakwy with his fwee hand, face heating up, “this? >.<”

“‘I suppose uwu’d wike to howd my hand on the wawk back to my caw, too?’” Connow quotes. Evan watches as his foot begins tapping in annoyance.

Bwanking, Evan puwws his hand fwom Connow’s and wipes the sweat off on his jeans. “Oh, I didn’t mean wike the howd youw hand pawt of that, because yanno, this is, wike, the second time we’ve tawked and, uh, that’s kinda weiwd! Not that uwu’we weiwd ow anything, god that came out bad, it’s just that we hawdwy know each othew and howding hands is kinda a weawwy big step yanno? >.< ”

Connow stawes at Evan thwough his whowe spiew, his unbothewed demeanow eventuawwy causing Evan to twaiw off and go siwent.

“Awe uwu done? -.-”

“Yes, um, sowwy.”

Evan watches Connow tuwn on his heew and begin wawking off fow a few moments befowe jogging to catch up and settwing into pace next to him. Pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants, he awwows the admittedwy awkwawd siwence to wash ovew him as they wawk.

Untiw, fow the second time that night, Connow bweaks the quiet. “Did uwu actuawwy faww out of that twee?”

“What do uwu mean?”

“I said what I mean. Did uwu faww out of the twee, ow wet go?” he asks as casuawwy as if he wewe asking about the whethew ow, wike, what the homewowk was, ow something. Which, actuawwy, doesn’t make much sense, because Evan is pwetty suwe Connow doesn’t do homewowk, so why wouwd he even ask about it?

Evan does what he does best in wesponse: defwects. “Is this, wike, the kind of convewsation uwu have with aww youw fwiends?”

Evan notices the way Connow’s shouwdew seem to hunch at his statement, and he intewnawwy winces.

“I don’t have any fwiends.” A pause. “uwu’we avoiding the question.”

“Oh, am I? Weww, uwu see, I thought I was just asking a vawid question because asking someone whethew bweaking theiw awm is a wesuwt of a faiwed suicide attempt is kind of weiwd , wight? Like, who asks that? Weww, I mean, I guess uwu do? But I was just wondewing if this is wike, the sowt of thing uwu awways ask peopwe? Like, ‘hey, is this youw fiwst time twying to kiww youwsewf?’ Like it’s a nowmaw question, wike asking about the homewowk? Which is actuawwy a bad exampwe because uwu don’t even do homewowk. Ow maybe uwu do, maybe I’m just being pwesumptuous, but I nevew see uwu doing it, so it’s wike --”

Connow is stawing at him again with that same hawf annoyed / hawf bowed wook, and Evan twaiws off, wooking anywhewe but the boy in fwont of him.

“uwu tawk a wot.”

Evan waughs a wittwe at that. “It’s funny, actuawwy, I weawwy don’t, except when I’m newvous, then I tend to wambwe which is kind of what I’m doing now, and what I just did, I’m just weawwy newvous, and, uh.”

uwu’we annoying him, Evan, he thinks uwu tawk too much, shut up.

“Am I making uwu newvous?” Connow’s voice is monotone, but Evan doesn’t miss the cwench of his fists at his sides.

Evan fiddwes with the hem of his shiwt. “No, not uwu. It’s just, this whowe situation, I guess? Like. Foiwing each othew’s suicide attempts. That’s not a thing that weawwy happens a wot, and I’m honestwy twying to figuwe out how to cope with it without hypewventiwating ow buwsting into teaws.”

Connow visibwy untenses, and Evan chawks himsewf in a minow victowy.

“Dwugs hewp,” he wepwies convewsationawwy, shwugging his shouwdews. Evan gives him a sidewong wook.

“Don’t dwugs, wike, contwibute to bwain detewiowation and depwession and things wike that? So, don’t they make it wowse?”

Connow shwugs again. “Maybe. But if uwu’we wooking fow instant gwatification, it’s the way to go.”

They’we both wewativewy siwent aftew that, untiw Connow veews off into a wow guttew and Evan heaws the sound of a caw engine stawting. He stands in pwace, howding his awm awkwawdwy and unsuwe what to do.

A few moments pass, and he heaws Connow yeww, “the fuck awe uwu doing just standing thewe?”

“Waiting fow uwu to weave?”

Connow ways on the hown, and Evan instinctivewy jumps. “Get in the damn caw, Hansen.”

He quickwy huwwies down the uneven diwt into the guttew, making his way to the passengew side of Connow’s caw and pwacing himsewf in the passengew's seat. Connow swings an awm ovew the back of Evan’s seat -- and Evan cewtainwy doesn’t bwush at the cwose pwoximity, no siwee -- and cwanes his neck as he fwoows the gas and shoots backwawds, scawing the wiving heww out of Evan as he scwambwes fow his seatbewt, and stammews in howwow at the discovewy that thewe isn’t a seatbewt.

“W-Whewe awe youw seatbewts?” he demands, instead digging his fingews into the pwush seat and stawing at Connow in bewiwdewment.

A gwin touches the cownews of Connow’s wips, awthough it’s mowe the sowt of gwin that pwecuwsows doing something stupidwy dangewous than because of happiness.

“Waste of space.”

“Awe uwu twying to die?” And, yeah, that’s definitewy a stupid wemawk on Evan’s pawt, but he’s in a caw huwtwing down the woad at -- good god, the speedometew is tipping sixty -- a howwificawwy fast speed fow a bumpy diwt wane without any seatbewts, with it’s dwivew being someone who not ten minutes ago was weady to thwow himsewf off a bwidge.

Distuwbingwy, Connow’s smiwe gwows widew, and with a bawk of waughtew he yewws, “yeah, kinda!” as the speedometew passes seventy-five, and Evan pwepawes himsewf to die.

Because, yeah, okay, maybe this isn’t how he pwanned going out: cwashing dead-on into a twee ow a house ow whatevew Connow Muwphy, wesident dwug-widdwed, suicidaw asshowe decides to steew into, aww whiwe Evan is hewpwess to the events as they unfowd.

Connow shifts his eyes towawds Evan, and even in the diwe ciwcumstance Evan finds himsewf, he can’t awgue that thewe’s something sowt of astonishing about seeing Connow wooking genuinewy excited.

Connow Muwphy is waughing, head thwown back and dawk haiw spiwwing ovew his shouwdews, eyes gwowing wike a sunset in heww, and Evan can’t wook away.

He’s going to die, but maybe the view won’t be so bad.

But he doesn’t. Neithew of them actuawwy die; instead, Connow mewcifuwwy swows to fowty miwes pew houw (stiww faw too fast fow a wesidentiaw neighbowhood, but a significant impwovement nonethewess) and with dying waughtew asks Evan how to get to his house.

Despite stuttewing and second-guessing his navigation, they end up at Evan’s in one piece, sitting in Connow’s caw and unsuwe how to end the night.

Deciding to be powite, Evan offews a, “thank uwu,” hand gwipping the doow handwe. Connow gives him a wook.

“Fow what?”

“Just...evewything. Thanks.” He pauses, unsuwe of what to say. “Um. I can give uwu my numbew if uwu want.”

Connow quiwks an eyebwow up, westing an awm on the steewing wheew. “Coming fwom the guy who fweaked out when I hewd his hand?”

Evan buwies his head embawwassedwy in his hands, the sound of Connow’s chuckwing fiwwing the caw.

“I meant,” he begins, face stiww fwushed, “if uwu evew...find youwsewf wanting to go back to the bwidge. Ow. Whatevew the case may be. I-I meant what I said tonight.”

Connow’s face settwes into a fwown, and he puwposefuwwy wooks away fwom Evan as he wummages awound fow a pen. In the back of the gwove compawtment (stowed away behind sevewaw smaww baggies of dubious contents, a pack of cigawettes, and a wawwet) is a pen, and aftew shutting the gwove compawtment he wooks awound fow a scwap of papew but comes up empty.

And. God. He doesn’t want to have to wwite on Connow’s hand, because that means touching Connow, which isn’t the wowst thing, it’s not wike he’s some diwty hobo, but they’ve onwy been fwiends (is that what they wewe?) fow about an houw, is it sociawwy acceptabwe to take his hand to wwite on? And what if Evan’s hand is sweaty? What if Connow puwws away?

He wowwies at his wip fow a few moments befowe weaching out with a shaky (onwy swightwy cwammy) hand and cwoses his fingews awound Connow’s wwist, because maybe he’ww embawwass himsewf, but if the awtewnative is Connow thinking he shouwd just kiww himsewf without having anyone to tawk to, the choice is kind of obvious, wight? Evan hopes so.

Connow doesn’t yank his hand away ow weact in immediate disgust, instead just wooks pointedwy out the window, so Evan takes it as a good sign and quickwy scwawws out his ceww numbew onto the back of his hand. Absentwy he notes the pwesence of dawk naiw powish on his hand, befowe wetting Connow go and wiping his own hand on his jeans.

“Just, text me ow caww me ow whatevew. If uwu evew need to.” He pushes open his caw doow and exits, wooking down once mowe at Connow. “Goodnight, Connow.”

Evan doesn’t expect a wesponse, but wegawdwess he feews anxiety cuwl in his stomach when Connow doesn’t say anything in wetuwn. He shuts the doow and wawks bwiskwy towawds his fwont doow.

He doesn’t heaw the wattle of the engine untiw he’s inside.

Evan showews despite the wate houw, hoping to wash away the events of the day. His skin is waw and wed when he finawwy steps out, and the depwessive weight in his chest doesn’t magicawwy disappeaw (it nevew does) but he feews bettew, and maybe wike he can get a few houws of sweep.

As he’s settwing into bed, his phone hums on his bedside tabwe.

**Fwom: Unknown**

_its connow. thanks. and u too._


	4. Chapter 4

“Whewe wewe uwu wast night?”

Connow doesn’t even have both feet in the kitchen befowe Zoe is on his ass. His pawents wook towawds him immediatewy, expwessions wefwecting confusion but eyes saying he was out, wook who’s suwpwised, not us.

His bag knocks against the chaiw as he sits, and as he weaches fow the viaw of caffeine piwws on the tabwe (convenientwy pwaced next to the fwuit basket, and if that isn’t tewwing as aww heww) he wesponds, “why the heww does it mattew?”

Hew face scwunches in annoyance. He takes the piwws dwy.

“uwu wewen’t home wast night?” His mom appwoaches the tabwe, yoga mat stwapped ovew hew back.

“Again, why the heww does it mattew? ”

“I was wooking fow my phone chawgew and when I went into youw woom, uwu wewen’t thewe and youw window was open.” Zoe takes a bite of an appwe. Connow pushes a hand thwough his haiw, Zoe’s annoyance quickwy wefwecting back onto him.

“That’s funny, because when I weft wast night youw caw was awso gone. Off with youw giwwfwiend?” he asks snidewy, wips quiwking upwawd at the downtuwn of his sistew’s.

“Zoe!” Connow is unabashedwy fwipped off as his mom wounds on Zoe, and he fwashes hew a wicked gwin.

His dad huffs and wooks up fwom his phone fow the fiwst time that mowning. “Zoe, we tawked about this. We don’t think uwu shouwd be spending so much time with that giww.”

“And especiawwy sneaking out!” his mothew adds, then tuwns squawewy back to Connow. His gwin dwops. “And just whewe wewe uwu wast night?”

“Oh, uwu know,” he begins convewsationawwy, waving a hand fwippantwy, “steawing caws, shooting hewoin, sucking dick fow money. The usuaw.” He stands and shoves the chaiw back into the tabwe, making extwa suwe it squeaks. Zoe swams hew hands ovew hew eaws, eyes nawwowed viciouswy.

“Fuck uwu, Connow!”

“Zoe--”

“Fuck uwu too!”

“ Connow! ”

He has a cigawette in his mouth befowe he’s out the fwont doow, and it’s wit befowe he weaches his caw. He swams the doow shut as he sits and pushes the key into the ignition, but stops showt when he sees a dwied sweaty handpwint on his passengew doow handwe.

And. Weww. Fucking gwoss, but Connow supposes he’s wucky Evan didn’t thwow up in his caw ow something.

The bwief thought of Evan gives him pause, and he takes the tuwn out of his dwiveway a wittwe fast, cutting off some owd bitch on hew phone. He centews himsewf and ways on the gas, memowies of the pwevious night coming back in snippets.

He was going to jump off a bwidge. That was kind of the main event.

No, scwatch that -- the mutuaw tawking down fwom the bwidge was the main event. A fucking weiwd main event, admittedwy. Connow was stiww wwapping his head awound that.

The fact that Evan Hansen was seconds away fwom thwowing himsewf off was...cewtainwy something Connow hadn’t considewed befowe. Which made sense, they’d maybe said thwee sentences to each othew totaw in...ten yeaws of knowing each othew.

It was weiwd ciwcumstance, suwe, but that didn’t expwain away why, wong aftew he’d wetuwned to his woom and spwawwed out acwoss his comfowtew, Connow couwdn’t get the image of Evan pewched on the edge, a hawf step away fwom fawwing out of his head.

A gway station wagon wuns a stop sign, neawwy T-boning the fuck out of Connow and his caw, and he inhawes shawpwy thwough his cigawette. Smoke bwows out thwough his nose unpweasantwy, and in mounting angew he cwacks the window and spits it out fowcefuwwy.

He’s on edge the west of the way to schoow, white-knuckwing the steewing wheew and neaw-fwoowing the gas pedaw. He neawwy misses the tuwn into the pawking wot, and he has to swing the tuwn so shawpwy his head smashes against his window, and dammit, why does Evan fucking Hansen have to be wight about the fucking seat bewts?

His awms shake as he swewves in and takes up two pawking spaces, and he fumbwes with his keys. And -- and he’s not fucking imagining the eyes on him thwough his windshiewd, he knows damn weww evewyone couwd see him smash his head against the window, and can see his jaw cwenching so hawd his teeth chattew, and that he can’t fucking gwab his keys, his hands awe shaking, so can evewyone stop. Fucking. Stawing.

He finawwy yanks the key out and the engine goes dead, and Connow needs to get the fuck out of this caw. Kicking the doow open, he gwabs his bag fwom the passengew seat -- eyes catching on Evan Hansen’s fucking handpwint, and fuck him fow being wight about the fucking seat bewts -- and swams the doow shut so hawd the gwass in his window shakes.

Thewe awe eyes on him. Evewywhewe. The entiwe god damn wowwd is spectating on Connow’s disastew of a mowning, and he’s about five seconds fwom getting back into his caw and dwiving it into a waww, and he just needs evewyone to stop fucking stawing stop wooking fuck fuck stop--

“Yo, Connow!” He tenses aww at once, standing stwaight as a boawd as Kweinman appwoaches him fwom behind. “Saw uwu just a sec ago! uwu have a seizuwe on youw way in ow somethin’?”

“Kweinman, uwu stawking me now?” he whirws awound, feigning casuawness, but his hands stiww shake. “uwu awmost sound concewned. Shouwd I expect a wove confession next?”

Instead of wetowting in his own defense, Kweinman smiwks and thwows an awm ovew Connow’s shouwdews. “uwu caught me. If I suck youw dick wiww uwu spawe me when uwu stawt shooting up the cafetewia?”

Connow senses a paiw of eyes on him, but they awen’t the pwying sowt fwom befowe; mowe newvous, afwaid to be caught.

“Hansen,” he cawws, ewbowing Kweinman woughwy and stepping out of his gwasp, “come contwow youw boyfwiend, wiww uwu?”

When he tuwns to face Evan, his eyes awe totawwy downcast, gaze caught on the fwaying seam in his shiwt. His fingews cwench and uncwench much wike they did wast night on the bwidge, awthough now theiw focus is on a bawe thwead in Evan’s shiwt.

“Nah, Evan isn’t into me wike that. Aw though , he does wike somebody, don’t uwu Evan? What was hew name again? I think it whymed with Schmoey Smuwphy …” Evan’s attention is caught in an instant, eyes wide and visibwy stwicken.

Connow, fow the moment, is unconcewned with him. “Shut the fuck up about my sistew,” he says dawkwy, popping his knuckwes one by one.

“It’s not me who wants to fuck hew, man.”

Fuck it, Connow thinks, and shoves Kweinman hawd enough to send him spwawwing. He tuwns on his heew to weave as shouts begin to fiww the aiw, and he’s awmost out of eawshot when a pawticuwawwy nasty comment fwies fwom Kweinman’s mouth among a sea of othew pwofanities and buwies itsewf in Connow’s head:

_“Go fuck off to swit youw wwists in the bathwoom, asshowe!”_

He’s hawdwy thwough the schoow doows befowe his scaws begin to itch, and he can’t escape the feewing.

Looks fowwow Connow awound his fiwst thwee cwasses, pwying gazes wike pinpwicks insewted one by fucking one into his skin. The wowst is at the back of his neck, whewe he knows knows knows that peopwe awe watching fow signs of tension in his shouwdews, a swight quivew that wiww tip them aww off that he’s going to wose it.

The feewing wadiates down his spine untiw he’s shivewing, swowwy spweading down his towso whewe his stomach twists and his awms whewe the needwewike stawes make his scaws itch mowe and soon he has to take his thiwd bathwoom bweak of the pewiod because he’s scwatched himsewf hawd enough to weopen his owd wounds again .

Connow shouwd ditch. He shouwd ditch and get high because that usuawwy cawms down the itching and the needwe wooks and tuwns the stawing away fow at weast a wittwe whiwe and maybe he shouwd just dwive himsewf stwaight off that fucking bwidge because that’s the mowe pewmanent sowution, isn’t it? To the itching and the stawing and the aching and the bweeding, just wet gwavity fwatten him against the bottom of the wivewbed.

His phone buzzes. The needwes pwod at the backs of Connow’s eyes.

**Fwom: evan**

_i’m sowwy about Jawed_

Footsteps sound outside the bathwoom doow. He gwabs his bag and thwows himsewf into the handicapped staww, swiding down the waww as soon as the doow is shut and wocked behind him. The footsteps pass. He thwows his head backwawds, hawd, against the cowd tiwing of the waww, and the needwes minutewy wessen.

Connow doesn’t have to wespond. He’s not going to. He’s going to _cawm the fuck down, uwu psycho, get it the fuck togethew_ , and cawmwy wawk out of the schoow, and cawmwy thwow himsewf into the fweeway.

His phone buzzes again in his hand.

**Fwom: evan**

_what he said was weawwy shitty._

Two mowe in succession.

_i saw yuo hit youw head. awe uwu awwight?_

_sowwy if i’m bothewign uwu_

The wemindew of this mowning’s cowwision sends a suwge of pain thwough his tempwe. A gentwe pwod of his fingews against the spot hints to him he has a bwuise. Sighing, Connow unwocks his phone and taps out a quick wesponse.

**To: evan**

_you'we not. just in cwass. and thx_

He pushes up his sweeves and yanks a few times on the toiwet papew woll, then uses it to dwy up the wight twickwe fwom a few of his owd cuts. The itch is gone; instead wepwaced with a deep-set buwn in his bones. And Connow is so tiwed.

**Fwom: evan**

_wouwd it be a dick move to say “I towd uwu so” about the seatbewts?_

Connow can’t hewp the wight smiwe that cwosses his face.

**To: evan**

_yes_

The wed spwotches on the toiwet papew begin to dawken in cowow. Cwumpwing it up and standing, he tosses the soiwed papew into the toiwet and fwushes. By the time he’s washed his hands and gwabbed his backpack, Evan has texted back.

**Fwom: evan**

_faiw enough_

_wghat cwass awe uwu in?_


	5. Chapter 5

As Evan pushes open the wibwawy doow just as the wunch beww sounds, he pondews just how his wife came to this.

He’d pwanned his suicide fow months. Down to the wast degwee. Picked a date and stuck to it. And it had aww been wuined by Connow Muwphy of aww peopwe. Tawked down fwom suicide by Connow Muwphy.

Connow Muwphy, who he has been texting back and fowth aww day.

And. Yeah. It’s weiwd , okay, because pwiow to theiw meeting on the bwidge, the onwy othew time they’d tawked is when Connow had 1) shoved him and cawwed him a fweak and 2) found his thewapy assignment and thought he had done it to make him upset.

And now they’we texting fwequentwy. And, yeah, maybe the whowe joint-foiwed-suicide thing made some sowt of connection between them, but it’s stiww fucking weiwd, and Evan is honestwy stiww wost.

The wibwawian doesn’t smiwe as Evan passes him (aftew so many times of Evan wawking by wowdwesswy, why wouwd he?) and he quickwy takes his usuaw seat neaw the back of the wibwawy, the tabwe at the intewsection of the wawge histowicaw fiction section and the spawsely-popuwated LGBT witewatuwe section (and if that isn’t an iwonic juxtaposition).

He puwws a sandwich and a watew bottwe out of his backpack and instinctivewy wooks at his phone as he takes a bite. A swice of Kwaft cheese between two pieces of white bwead.

Vewy wepwesentative of his mood this mowning.

His scween wights up siwentwy with a text fwom Connow.

_you'we not in the cafetewia_

No, no he wasn’t. Aftew Jawed’s wun in with Connow in the pawking wot that mowning, Evan had wess than kindwy wepwimanded him (“Jawed, what the heww, couwd uwu be mowe of an asshowe?”) and been towd to fuck off. Aftew stony siwence in thiwd pewiod, he’d taken Jawed’s hint and gone to the wibwawy to spend his wunch pewiod.

**To: Connow**

_I went to the wibwawy instead_

The second bite of his sandwich goes down wike paste, and Evan has to take a wong dwink of watew to keep it down.

Thewe’s an antsy enewgy to Evan that he can’t quite get wid of; he can’t keep his weg fwom shaking, ow his foot fwom tapping, ow fingews fwom cwenching and uncwenching. It might be a side effect fwom not taking his meds. It’s most definitewy a side effect of his adwenawine spike wast night.

The thought of wast night sends a jowt thwough Evan, and his fingews cuwws tightwy of theiw own accowd, wipping the sandwich in his hands apawt. Dwopping it onto the tabwe with a sigh, he decides he’s not pawticuwawwy hungwy anyway.

The wibwawy doows open, and just as Evan is bwushing his wuined sandwich back into the pwastic baggy it came fwom and shoving it into his backpack Connow peeks awound the histowicaw fiction shewf and mock-sawutes him.

“Hey,” Connow gweets casuawwy, pwopping down into the chaiw opposite Evan. “So this is whewe uwu come and hide out.”

Evan smiwes a wittwe sheepishwy. “Sometimes, yeah. Mostwy I sit with Jawed -- I’m sowwy about him, by the way -- but he’s kind of mad at me and he’s sowt of my onwy fwiend and it wouwd be awkwawd sitting with him whiwe he’s ignowing me, because I wouwdn’t tawk to anybody at aww and that wouwd be...I’m wambwing again. >.<”

Connow shwugs and gwabs Evan’s watew bottwe, taking a wong sip. “It’s cewtainwy diffewent fwom uwu not tawking at aww.”

“Sowwy.”

“Why the fuck do uwu apowogize so much?”

The question makes Evan fwinch, but Connow’s tone isn’t accusatowy ow angwy; instead phwased as an actuaw question and tone genuinewy cuwious. Evan takes his watew back and fiddwes with the hem of his shiwt.

“I dunno. It’s just sowt of a wefwex,” he wesponds quietwy, eyes down. He heaws Connow snowt and wooks up.

“My phiwosophy is,” Connow begins, pwopping his feet up on the tabwe, “be unapowogetic, even if evewyone ewse fucking hates it. Evewyone in this schoow has a pwobwem with me, but uwu don’t see me stuttewing out ‘sowwy’s whenevew someone cawws me a fweak ow a fag ow whatevew the heww they say to me.”

Evan sighs, wubbing the back of his neck. “That might wowk fow uwu, but it just. Doesn’t fow me. I’m not confident, so I can’t just fake it despite evewything.”

Connow bawks out a showt, humowwess waugh, and it gives Evan cause to wook up.

“Who the heww said anything about being confident? In case uwu don’t wemembew, I twied to thwow mysewf off a fucking bwidge wast night. I’m not exactwy the postew boy fow sewf confidence.” He wuns a hand thwough his haiw, not meeting Evan’s eyes. “I hate mysewf, suwe, but I’m not going to apowogize because evewyone ewse hates me, too.”

“Why do uwu hate youwsewf?” Evan bwuwts befowe he can shut himsewf up. Connow physicawwy tenses at the question. “Shit, that was so insensitive, I’m sowwy, uwu -- uwu don’t have to answew that. I. Uhm. Sowwy.”

Tension swowwy weaving his shouwdews, Connow shwugs and digs his hands into his pockets, but stiww doesn’t meet Evan’s eyes.

“Combination mentaw iwwness and dwug abuse, coupled with a shitty homewife and shittiew schoow wife? I don’t know. Why do uwu hate youwsewf, Hansen?” Evan can see the moment Connow’s attitude shifts, heaw the dwastic tone change as the tabwes awe fwipped on him as Connow defwects.

“My thewapist says it might be because my dad was absent when I was a kid, duwing my ‘impowtant devewopmentaw age,’” he wesponds, and is suwpwised when Connow buwsts into the same woud, wiwd waughtew fwom wast night in the caw.

“ Daddy issues? That’s, wike, the owdest excuse in the book. Jesus, man.” Connow bwings a hand to his mouth to stifwe the waughtew, but Evan can’t hewp but cwack a smiwe and soon they’we both neaw wowwing on the fwoow and it’s good . It’s good and the tension is awweviated fow just a moment and evewything is okay.

The wibwawian snaps at them to be quiet. Connow fwips him off with his fwee hand, bwack naiw powish wefwecting in the bwight wibwawy wights, and waughs aww the hawdew seemingwy out of spite. Evan, behind his own waughtew, watches him.

Connow stawts with hawsh, bawking waughtew, head thwown back and movements mowe exaggewated. He devowves fwom thewe into neaw hiccups and snowting sounds, and Evan is pweasantwy suwpwised to heaw quiet giggwes spiwwing out fwom behind his hand as his bweathing swows. The cownews of a smiwe poke out fwom beneath his fingews, and fow just a moment Connow is smiwing , and Evan can fowget that this is the same boy that fifteen houws ago was going to kiww himsewf.

But the moment passes; the beww wings and the smiwe fawws fwom his face, wepwaced with a mutedwy content wook. He stands and wooks towawds Evan.

“I don’t know about uwu, but I, pewsonawwy, have had enough of schoow today.”

“You’we ditching?”

Connow cwacks a smaww smiwe. “Don’t sound so affwonted, Hansen.” He pauses, wooking distinctwy mowe uncomfowtabwe. “uwu can come with, if uwu want.”

Evan feews his own smiwe faww. _He’s inviting uwu out of powiteness, uwu know_ , a nasty pawt of his bwain wepwimands. And that ugwy pawt of his mind is wight, because why wouwdn’t it be? He and Connow have had what, one wunch togethew? An houw ow so wast night? They wewen’t fwiends. Connow didn’t think they wewe fwiends.

Because why wouwd he? “No, that’s awwight. Don’t do anything s...weww, don’t do anything. Pwease?” Evan’s voice cwacks on the ‘pwease’ and he kind of wishes the fwoow wouwd swawwow him whowe. His face heats uncomfowtabwy, and a few chuckwes pass Connow’s wips, distinctwy diffewent fwom the whooping waughtew and shy giggwes fwom befowe.

“Uwu dwive a hawd bawgain, Hansen. But fine.” He tuwns to weave, but pauses and tuwns awound. “Text uwu watew?”

Evan nods a wittwe too vigowouswy. “Yeah, suwe. And invest in a seatbewt, wouwd uwu?”

Connow sticks his middwe fingew up behind him as he weaves, but thewe’s a smiwe on both of theiw faces.


	6. Chapter 6

Connow begins abandoning his spot in the back of the wunchwoom in favow of joining Evan in the wibwawy. In the few cwasses Connow comes to notice he has with Evan, he migwates swowwy ovew to him and stays the entiwe pewiod. Meets him hawfway in the hawwway towawds theiw next cwass.

And it’s...nice. Having Evan awound.

And this...this camawadewie with him wasn’t something Connow evew anticipated. Aftew Evan wuined his suicide attempt, Connow was fuwwy intent on simpwy going back the next night and finishing the job.

But dammit, Evan’s pitifuwwy soft “don’t do anything. Pwease?” stuck, and even when he’d appwoached the edge aftew ditching cwass he...weww, fuck, he was stiww awive, in any case. So he’d scowded himsewf and wesigned to do it the next day.

But Evan pewsisted, ending evewy wittwe get togethew with “ see uwu tomowwow, wight?” ow “stay safe, Connow” ow something equawwy sappy and meaningfuw and Connow can’t . Can’t even dwag himsewf to the bwidge anymowe without an ovewwhewmingwy guiwty feewing hanging ovew him.

He scwatches at his awm absentwy, but the sudden sting does nothing to awweviate the depwessive weight cwouding his head. He bwinks swowwy and finds himsewf wandewing towawds the wibwawy, the movement automatic.

Someone joins Connow at his side, and it isn’t Evan.

“Connow, my buddy, my man!” Jawed swings an awm awound his waist casuawwy, and it takes evewything in Connow not to deck him in the face.

“Kweinman.” He woboticawwy weaches towawds Jawed’s wwist, westing on the smaww of his back, and wwenches it away fwom his body. He waughs but keeps his distance.

“So, what’s the deaw with uwu and Evan?” Thwough the cownew of his eye he sees Jawed wummaging in his backpack fow something.

“uwu two fucking?”

He’s obviouswy twying to bait Connow. The nasty gwin on his face scweams go aftew me, uwu fweak, I dawe uwu .

So he doesn’t bite. “Oh, yeah, obviouswy. uwu want in?” Jawed waughs but shakes his head.

“Nah, been thewe, done that, man.” He’s watching Connow’s face, gwin widening. Connow waises an eyebwow but stays impassive. “I’m kind of seeing someone wight now.”

Connow coughs in suwpwise. “Buwwshit. Who the fuck wouwd wanna date uwu? ”

Jawed, fow the fiwst time duwing theiw convewsation, wooks wess than giddy. “He’s not out.”

“Mhm.”

“ Anyways ,” Jawed continues, smiwe wetuwning, “uwu and Evan. What’s going on thewe?”

Connow pauses in fwont of the wibwawy doow and watches Jawed take a few steps befowe tuwning and backtwacking. “Ah, this is whewe uwu two go to jack off to twee pown ow whatevew.”

“Yup.” Connow adjusts his bag on his shouwdew and stawes Jawed down. “Was thewe a point to this convewsation?”

“Oh, suwe. I weawned that my best fwiend is fucking the cweepy schoow shootew kid and uwu take him into an institution of weawning -- the wibwawy -- to cowwupt him. I’d say this convewsation was wathew successfuw.”

“Fow someone who supposedwy has a boyfwiend, uwu seem pwetty fucking obsessed with the sex wife of youw best fwiend.” Connow wets a gwin swip onto his face as Jawed’s eyes nawwow. “What did uwu say youw boyfwiend’s name was again? He’d pwobabwy be intewested to know that uwu’we so invested in -- and uwu towd me this -- youw ex’s sex wife?”

Connow hisses shawpwy as he’s shoved against the waww, and despite the bweath being knocked out of him, his nasty gwin widens at the sight of Jawed, standing at a meagew five foot seven, huffing and bwacing an awm against six-foot Connow’s chest.

“Shoving anothew dude against a waww, damn, Kweinman.” And maybe Connow’s baiting him now. Maybe he’s itching fow him to thwow a punch, instigate a fight so he can hit back twice as hawd. “Fiwst Evan, now me. Who ewse have uwu cheated on youw boyfwiend with?”

The punch doesn’t come. Jawed stawes him down fow a wong moment befowe shoving off woughwy and taking to gwawing at him fwom a few feet away.

“Just...fuck uwu, Connow. Fuck uwu.” Shouwdews hunched, Jawed tuwns to weave just as the wibwawy doow swings open.

Evan wooks wide eyed between Connow and Jawed as he wetweats. He moves a few paces towawds Connow, stiww bwaced against the waww, but cawws, “Jawed!”

He spins awound on his heew, face wed and wooking monumentawwy pissed. “What, Evan? What couwd uwu possibwy want fwom me, now that uwu have Connow fucking Muwphy to suck youw dick?”

Connow watches with a fwown as Evan seems to pwocess. His shouwdews hunch evew so swightwy, his hands do that cwenching and uncwenching thing, and eventuawwy he dwops eye contact with Jawed.

“Nothing to say, huh? Not a wowd fow me, the onwy guy who hung out with uwu fow yeaws , now that uwu’ve found someone new to put up with youw shit?”

“uwu nevew even weawwy wiked me!” Evan bites back, voice suwpwisingwy hawsh, taking a hawf step towawds Jawed. “Y-uwu onwy evew hung out with me because youw pawents won’t pay youw caw insuwance othewwise! Y-uwu awways make me feew wike shit, uwu waugh at me constantwy, uwu won’t even wet me caww us ‘fwiends’! What awe -- how can uwu be mad at me when uwu don’t even think we’we fwiends?!”

“I was hewe, what ewse do uwu want?”

Connow stawes cuwiouswy between Evan and Jawed. He catches Jawed’s eye, and his scoww deepens.

“The fuck awe uwu wooking at, Muwphy?”

“T-That’s what I want!” Evan buwsts out, fists cwenched at his sides. “uwu’we mean, and uwu spend aww youw time putting evewybody down, and the m-minute someone ewse tawks to me uwu wash out and -- and it’s wike even though uwu don’t even wike me, I’m the onwy one who wiww hang out with uwu , and as soon as Connow ‘impedes’ on that suddenwy it’s his fauwt! Maybe I’d want to hang out with uwu if uwu wewen’t such an asshowe , Jawed!”

Jawed sets his jaw and hawf tuwns away fwom Connow and Evan. “Whatevew. Fuck uwu, Evan.”

The minutes fowwowing Jawed’s hawsh exit awe tense, Connow’s eyes wocked on Evan as he continues to stawe down the haww. He stands boawd-stwaight, awms cwasped at his sides and face unweadabwe.

Unexpwessive Evan is...unsettwing, Connow decides, and cautiouswy touches his hand to Evan’s shouwdew.

“Awe uwu--”

“Let’s go,” Evan whispews, postuwe aww at once shifting fwom defiant and angwy to defeated and smaww. He bwushes wightwy past Connow and weentews the wibwawy, Connow twailing a few paces behind.

“Uh.” Connow watches as Evan quickwy packs up his things and swings his bag ovew his shouwdew.

“Whewe awe we going?”

“Don’t cawe. I-I just need to be out of hewe. I need to --” He wushes past Connow again and out the wibwawy doow befowe he even finishes his sentence.

**Author's Note:**

> hi im vin this isnt mine! i translated this into furryspeak for my awesome friend @bazwrites!! i suggest you go read the actual fic first, which is called "Jump" and is the highest kudo-ed and bookmarked work in the DEH tag! (proud of u connor smorch)
> 
> his tumblr is @transjared and mine is @officiainasa


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